"discovers" poems
unto thee i
burn incense
the bowl crackles
upon the gloom arise purple pencils
fluent spires of fragrance
the bowl
seethes
a flutter of stars
a turbulence of forms
delightful with indefinable flowering,
the air is
deep with desirable flowers
i think
thou lovest incense
for in the ambiguous faint aspirings
the indolent frail ascensions,
of thy smile rises the immaculate
sorrow
of thy low
hair flutter the level litanies
unto thee i burn
incense,over the dim smoke
straining my lips are vague with
ecstasy my palpitating ******* inhale the
slow
supple
flower
of thy beauty,my heart discovers thee
unto
whom i
burn
olbanum
16.6k
The greatest gift you can give someone
is your time because when you give
your time you are giving a portion of
your life that you will never get back
and time is more valuable than money
because you can always get more
money but you cannot get more time.
Time has a wonderful way of showing
us what really matters because good
things take time so live every moment,
love beyond words and laugh every
day and don't let your struggle become
your identity because nobody can go
back and start a new beginning but
anybody can start today and make a
new ending.
Age is not a guarantee of maturity and
sometimes your heart needs more time
to accept what your mind already
knows so know that any time you enjoy
wasting is not wasted time because good
things take time and if you have time to
whine and complain about something
then you have the time to do something
about it.
Hard times will always reveal true friends
just as time discovers truth and time is not
free but it is priceless and you can't own it
but you can use it and you can't keep it but
you can spend it but once you have lost it,
it is gone forever.
Jon York 2016
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
The stewardship of talent calls attention for everyone to discover their purpose on earth,
knowing we are created with potentials waiting to be maximized.
The stewardship of time calls attention for everyone to maximize their time on earth,
knowing we are mandated to dominate and subdue the earth.
Nothing is found except it is hidden,
every one has a talent.
Nothing is hidden except it is a secret,
every person has a gift.
Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure,
every individual has a potential.
Every one has a secret hidden treasure to be found,
ln them lives unique talents waiting to be discovered;
lf only they can discover their purpose on earth.
Every person has a destined mission to accomplish,
ln them lives voices waiting to be heard;
lf only they can activate their gifts.
Every individual has a solution to provide on earth,
ln them lives great potentials waiting to be maximized;
lf only they can exploit their potentials.
How then can talents be discovered knowing that any talent wasted will be accounted for.
How then can gifts be activated knowing that we are mandated by God to accomplish a purpose on earth.
How then can potentials be maximized knowing that we are created to impact our generation.
Let him that seek to discover and utilize his talents on earth consult God through prayers.
Let him that seek to activate his gifts exploit God's given innate ability to man.
Let him that seek to maximize his potentials on earth search the mind of God through the scriptures.
Is there any reward for discovering and exploiting your talents?
Is there any reward for activating your innate gifts?
Is there any reward for maximizing your God given potentials?
He that discovers and exploits his talents for God will receive the Masters reward.
He that activates his innate gifts will be remembered forever.
He that maximizes his potentials will leave an indelible footstep on earth.
Hope you strive to be persistent and consistent in the stewardship of talent,
knowing that much is required of you.
Endeavour to be faithful and obedient in your stewardship of talent, knowing we all owe God the accountability of our talents.
Ensure you exploit the discovery of your talents,
activate your innate gifts and maximize your potentials effectively.
Strive to discover your purpose on earth,
Seek to activate your talents and gifts; and
Strive to maximize your potentials.
He that discovers and exploits his talents on earth,
will leave an indelible footprint on the sands of time that will be remembered forever.
He that activates his gifts on earth will impact the world and his generation.
He that maximizes his potentials effectively,
will engrave his names in the sands of time and seasons of the sky.
Talent is a Mandate not a Delegate.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
The body was given to us as impression of the gift of love.
We were conceived in love and born in order to love.
The Creator has given us through the body to the world.
We are therefore divine spark.
Let us look at other man as at indescribable gift.
Adam and Eve in paradise followed in the wake of ****** without shame.
Through the body we can touch the soul.
This ****** was
acceptance of a man with his limitations,
tangible form of love,
devotion to each other without mystery,
boundless openness,
freedom from lust of flesh.
Bashfulness has its roots in this original innocence.
Discretion to the body is inscribed in man.
Let us follow with pure look at man.
Purity is trying to get access through the body to soul and inside.
The physicality brings us
childish joy,
communion of souls,
inner enrichment,
sharing a beautiful relationship,
exploration of mystery of love.
Pure look at man is unconventional symphony of his gift of life.
Such scrutinizing is necessary for genuine love.
Beloved should first play simultaneously the same notes of feelings
before the symphony will flow with sexuality.
This presage will give your body speech.
Sexuality should not drown out the relationship with beloved,
it should build skyscrapers.
Sexuality is a gift, such as body and life.
Sexuality discovers endless wealth of lover.
****** expression of love is a confession of God's presence.
After all, God is love.
Only the perception of sexuality as gift saves from vulgarity.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
Look, stranger, at this island now
The leaping light for your delight discovers,
Stand stable here
And silent be,
That through the channels of the ear
May wander like a river
The swaying sound of the sea.
Here at the small field's ending pause
Where the chalk wall falls to the foam, and its tall ledges
Oppose the pluck
And knock of the tide,
And the shingle scrambles after the ****
ing surf,
and the gull lodges
A moment on its sheer side.
Far off like floating seeds the ships
Diverge on urgent voluntary errands;
And the full view
Indeed may enter
And move in memory as now these clouds do,
That pass the harbour mirror
And all the summer through the water saunter.
10.8k
I don’t need a Romeo or Casanova. If I need anyone, then I need someone who I can talk to. Someone to share real life. Someone who’s present, here, and not over there. Someone who can be honest with me, and I with them. Someone who’s got words worth listening to. Someone, who’s interested in what I have to say.
Is it too much to ask for friendship first? Does that sound unrealistic or old fashioned? And why does the expectation of new relationships have to start out like a **** movie? Why can’t men be friends with women instead of wanting pieces of their body first? I’m a person, with feelings, hopes and plans, not an item of lust.
Why do women fall in the trap of wanting to find a man who'll provide everything, make them happier than they've ever been before? A man like that can't be found. A man is human, not a mystic angel. He doesn’t exist to make a woman find happiness.
On the day she finds he contains no magic to elevate her emotions into happy ever after, and he discovers she not got much to lust for, the only thing left will be - friendship. So what is left if friendship can't be found?
If love can grow from a friend, and lust grow from love - then I might be interested. Friendship is what matters, anything less, can go to hell...
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
What exactly is "awe"?
Is it something you feel
is it something you saw?
Does it lay in a sunset on a beach?
it felt so close, yet so out of reach.
Does it lay in the eyes of a child
as she discovers something new?
Is it forgiving other people
while receiving forgiveness too?
Is it watching a person grow
as they become a better person
than the person you used to know?
Maybe it's stepping on a stage
feeling excitement no matter your age.
Is it reminiscing on people passed?
Feeling their touch inside of you
a touch that will always last.
Is it touching hundreds of flowers
or laughing for the last time in your last hours?
Maybe it's in music
the beat inside
the wonder glowing on your face
a glow you just can't hide.
None of these answers are wrong.
Find it in a setting or in a song.
No matter where life may take you
make sure you find the wonder
in every little thing you do.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
Candles burn, candles blaze,
A Soul with a flesh,
An angel not yet matured.
Candles dim, candles fade,
A Soul darkens,
An angel becomes human.
Candles brighten, candles enliven,
A Soul enlightened,
An angel discovers God’s grace.
Candles glow, candles glimmer,
A Soul is Called from flesh,
An angel gains her wings.
Candles’ light, candles’ shine,
Though Souls remain in flesh,
And she in Paradise,
With them, God’s angel still resides.
Candles’ flame, candles’ fire,
Souls of conflict, souls of Love,
God’s healing Peace and Grace be with them
An angel of Heaven above dwelling in their midst.
Mar 11, 2012
Mar 11, 2012 at 2:25 PM UTC
NAKED BUS
She catches the London bus
in her fist.
Gnaws it...then throws it
through the window.
Lucky the window wasn't
closed.
She chews it when
teething.
Chews its redness
- off.
She is amazed to see
the real thing for the first time.
For her
her toy has grown into a giant.
Then she discovers double-deckers.
Counts: "One double-decker bus...two double-decker buses
...24 double decker buses!"
It is unbelievably so!
Doesn't know she is counting
the same bus twice!
And now to add to her
amazement she
encounters a green bus!
Will the excitement never end.
"The bus has changed its clothes?"
she says unsure that this can be so.
But now confounded by a bus
all in white!
Even we have never seen
a bus in white.
It looks like it has taken
all its clothes off.
A **** bus!
But to her it's worse
far worse than that!
"The bus has taken
it's skin off!"
She refuses to go on
this skinless bus.
We wait for a "normal"
bus to somehow appear.
And appear it does
busy being a red bus.
The world of buses
restored to its proper order.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
When education was restricted
They ran to religion
When solace was stripped away
They ran to martyrdom
Loved ones fell
Hated ones rose
As hearts sank
To the depths of the maelstrom
Fueled by the unholy trinity
Value, vindication, and violence
Bombs decimate Afghan villages
With the precision
Of a needle hitting a vein
And as casually
As a contractor putting a dollar in his pocket
The rubble of their town
Lost in a mist of dust
The rubble of their minds
Lost in a mist of vengeance
The rabid dog chases the subjugated raccoon
The raccoon discovers a sacred hole and hides in it
The predator attempts to encroach the void
The raccoon quivers in it's sanctuary shelter
Finding relief as the hound becomes stuck
And laughs as the infected beast starves to death
But ecstasy turns to terror
As the raccoon realizes it's only way out of this hole
Is being blocked by the gargantuan corpse
Terror turns to sorrow
As the raccoon starves to death
Alone
In the dark
It's holy land now hell
For once it had protected the raccoon from unbridled rabies
But since the hound's death
It's Cerberus size obstructs all progression
Holes become graves
And prey are left to pray
For someone to drop a bomb and clear a path
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 4:45 AM UTC
How can I see you yet never go Blind
As Tradition and Heart seek to acclaim?
I carry no Surveys; But keep in mind
A Friend such as you has naught to explain
Sweet and Sour Words not; Joy discovers Joy
And Celebration does reward the Humble
Your Grin is shy by your arms; As a Toy
Compare a Fattened Bee to a Bumble
Trust is falling in love with Pockets. True,
Digging deep you reach Wisdom by the Card
I suggest you shuffle; Then Five Trinkets
Spell out the Sum of who you really are:
Simple. Gay. Serene. Trustsworthy. Beauty.
All locked in your Chest to open when ready.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:42 PM UTC
The Great Newfoundland novel (summation)
A young man brimming with
Townie **** and vinegar or
Bay boy brimming with obnoxious bravado
Eventually he leaves and discovers
How people treat fellow man
Seemingly beaten down
Genetic history Of Newfoundland Truck System
Alongside founders population variance,
Upward spike in heart disease, stroke, diabetes, cancers
Lurks engrained learned hopelessness
Smouldering in "Newfie" jokes
You'd better hope I let it slide
Unless you wanna find out
What a peat moss bog smells like
Or how it feels to freeze to death
Tied to a crucifix
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
the backyard is home to a field of flowers
amidst the roots the family dog discovers skeletons
the petals stick to themselves; the weeds spread
it's found that the flower-bed holds its secrets
with curiosity and wandering eyes comes a child
in innocence, he opens his arms only to receive pain
he drops to the earth, writhing in pain
his light form crushing the weeds and flowers
the dog barks at the screaming child
and tries to release him from the skeletons
the strength of their grasp is that of their secrets
you see the effects spread
across the child's skin they spread
his face warping under the pain
opening his mouth, he began releasing his secrets
telling only the ears of the crushed flowers
and the arms around him, those of the skeletons
look at the helpless child
the bones are engulfing the child
grabbing and pulling, faster they spread
the boy becomes one with the skeletons
he becomes one with his pain
his body sinks further down into the flowers
and the flowers promise to keep his secrets
the weeds overheard his secrets
the boy looks less and less of a child
as he settles in with the flowers
making room for him, the flowers spread
the suffering subsides, decreasing pain
he's almost as the skeletons
his body unites with the skeletons
the ***** age keeps his secrets
no longer is there pain
no longer is there a child
into the ground, his limbs spread
into the roots of the flowers
the pain no longer is in the child
because the skeletons stole his secrets
his bones spread among the flowers
Apr 18, 2011
Apr 18, 2011 at 1:59 PM UTC
A man went for a walk one day. He seemed to be searching for something as he hurried about, "Just a rock covered in dirt nothing special he says while he walks away".
A little girl walking down the same path carefully inspects each rock
She examines each one and than picks up the same rock that the man
had rejected.
She holds it in her hands lifts it up toward the sun and says," you may not look like much outside , but I have a feeling that your true worth lies within you".
She excitedly skips down the path and brings it home and proudly presents the rock to her father.
He carefully takes the rock and breaks it open and discovers the treasure that lies within, a geode that is sparkling like diamonds in the light.
In life people at times are too quick to judge according to appearances alone. They hurry through life seem to be searching for something but not taking time to discover what life has to offer us through one another. They might even perceive that another person is like dirt,and with that misconception they miss out in discovering another's true worth.
Upon closer examination they might discover that the other person has many great qualities and can become a treasured friend.
If only they would slow down and take the time to take a closer look so that they don't miss the hidden treasure that lies within.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
In this mist I can't quite see my edges properly
I'm coping on the level of
both rational and almost raving
and I want to shine
which isn't much, just a firefly light
but I'm in the midst of susurration
and they're not gentle, and there's no calming breeze to carry me
because my wings have been closed for a long time
and I can only beg
but to whom?
It doesn't feel sincere
when I'm not even sure
But I promise that I mean it
because these tears aren't for my own benefit
they are to show you that I've still a little fight left
enough to wrap myself in
Because now, I'm only fighting for myself
Although I was always told to upraise the ones reaching
and I'm not content, I am trying
and I need
a transformation
but I can't croak out "Save me".
Even as I dangle over this puddle, and I work up courage
courage to find your ears
in hopes that you'll hear me,
I also know I'm losing strength
becoming heavier
I am certain that I'm now too heavy for you, I will pull you with me
so I will wait longer
searching the mist
for someone with superhuman strength
and I will grow more tired
until that hand comes
and discovers
that my weight it otherworldly, now
and they will have to choose
if I am worth the struggle.
The devil will hope to cheat
but God's Will decides.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
I love nothing more than a good conversation
Whether we laugh or have a serious discussion
Quality moments sitting around a table
Words flow as we're trapped in our own little capsule
Promptly, we are transported to a different world
See all these places and get cultured through mere words
Without even leaving this spot for a second
Our shared stories spur on the imagination
I am here enjoying my beer or my coffee
It is a pleasure to be in great company
One can learn so much through the eyes of another
To some questions, one can firmly get an answer
It doesn't matter if we are, or not, alike
A smart and challenging person will always strike
Ultimately, one might get more than what he thought
One discovers things about himself just with talk
I love nothing more than a good conversation
Whether we laugh or have a serious discussion
Sit around a nice little table for a while
What's greater in life than connecting through a smile?
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 5:03 PM UTC
Golden shimmers
Bright lights
The finer things in life
Waves crashing
Thoughts mashing
Finding out the unknown
Artist adventures
Musical excavations
Silver stars
Forever scars
Choosing your path
Mistakes made
Forgiving gaze
Monumental discovers
Shooting guns
Bright burning sun
Death of friend
Holding on til the end
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 1:50 AM UTC
One, two, three, two, five, seven
Rhythmless feet clad in branded shoes
Adventurous, brazen fingers strolling on wide, voluptuous stalks
Towering sunflowers with wide, voluptuous stalks
Pristine dandelions enticing pairs of hands
Pristine dandelions enticing my pair of hands
And I give in, and I willingly give in
Summer petals weaken the gullible heart
The summer petals abandon the gullible heart
One, two, three, two, five, seven
Rhythmless feet now bare
Adventurous, brazen fingers now dormant
One, two, four, six, eight, ten
Rhythmless feet clad in cheap shoes
Curious fingers strolling on wide, voluptuous stalks
Towering white daisies with wide, voluptuous stalks
Pristine dandelions spring once more
Pristine dandelions enticing my pair of hands
And I give in, yet again I give in
Winter petals capture the derelict heart
The winter petals emulate mirrors after caressing the ramshackle heart
One, two, four, six, eight, ten
Rhythmless feet once again bare, now calloused
Curious fingers now cautious
One, two, two, two, two, two
Rhythmless feet hesitating to be covered
Vacillating fingers mapping the wide, voluptuous stalks
Pristine dandelions surface once more
Pristine dandelions displaying subtle coquetry
And I stall, for heaven's sake, I stall
Fall petals demonstrate its desire to the heart
The fall petals fall but the bitter heart hangs on a silk thread
One, two, two, two, two, two
Rhythmless feet discovers a rhythm
A rhythm so unpleasant, so abhorrent
Vacillating fingers now curl
Curl into the palm in resistance
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC
Amid the Romans the seven arrive,
To work something out to stop the impending war,
To everyone it seemed like things were going fine,
Until Leo was possessed and attacks the Roman camp,
Aboard the ship they fly away,
But they have no idea what will happen to them,
Throughout their journey they find many clues,
Except they don’t always know what to do,
Till Annabeth discovers that she needs to leave the group,
Against her will Annabeth heads out on her solo quest,
Throughout her journey she faces many hardships,
Over Tartarus is where she ends up,
After Annabeth is finally found by the rest of the seven,
Inside Arachne’s web-filled cave,
Upon the long lost Athena Parthenos,
Above Annabeth is the Argo II,
Against their luck the ground is questionably stable,
Toward Tartarus Percy and Annabeth fall,
Down they fall for what seems like days,
Into the place where the monsters lay.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 7:51 PM UTC
but what happens
if the moon
actually discovers
his real other half?
then
i'm not the half-moon
he's destined to be with.
i'm just an astronomer,
a selenophile,
lost in a love phase.
because i will still love you
even if you vanished
from my sight
and turned into
a new moon.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 11:07 AM UTC
~for Steve R. & Stephen Y.~
*"two regrets are mine -
not finding you earlier in life when...words would have carved for me a better road, and...not hand-ing you a touch, the perfect tightness-shake of one's hand reserved for fondest friends and the light press on one's back deserved for dearest brothers!"
~~~*
the light press surety of five fingers on one,
oh, what messages it composes, oh, what duty weighty it transmits
dear brothers:
tho this hands-on handoff, this fly-over, is still a
mission unaccomplished,
yet no regrets, please!
men don't overuse superlatives,
what you lovingly uncover in my rocket-verbal Mars probes,
is more telling, more revealing of who you are,
than any hand-tightness shake,
any touching grasp, could e'er convey
yet I promise, forsworn upon the cross
of the north west Pacifico latitude and longitude
a latitude that just happens to intersect
my olden, new english state,
knowing that Interstate 90
a straight transcontinental shot,
and the car keys just an impulse grab away
to tell your arms, your face, your back, our hands,
that when you love my poetry,
you love me,
you friends,
are an affirmation of Pablo Neruda's words:
***"whoever discovers who I am
discovers who you are"***
fondness is not distance constrained,
touching grasps pay no obeisance to time,
the honor of your affection permanent
affirmed and enflamed,
all mine, sublime, to lead my heart,
where to lay hands upon your back,
to realize even more
our single united rhyme
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
i
I kind of knew
in the back
of my mind
that there was more
to come
ii
An urgent message
rings through the streets
"The Romans are at the gates!"
As soon as the news
reaches the house
giant catapults
start to pound the roofs
with rocks.
iii
Hoovering out
the cat hairs
scrubbing out
the loo
iv
The woman put her sad moon-face in
at the window of the car.
"You be good," she said.
"Yes, Momma," they said.
She slung her purse over her shoulder
and walked away.
v
Being James Bond
in miniature
is way cooler
than being a wizard.
vi
The park grew wild
and where we played football
the grass was torn
by the bombs
vii
At the time
everyone thought
that Elizabeth planned
to capture Mary.
viii
I'm so excited
I could burst
It's this cracking idea I've had
It's been worrying me away for weeks
It all started,
you see,
When I was showing some of my students
Where Greenland was on a map.
iix
Unbelievably,
the brown square
is identical
to the yellow square
ix
All us friends and relatives
are told to sit at the back
mind coats and bags
knowing our way
in the dark
x
Mum glared at Dad.
How many times
do I have to tell you
that the twins are called
James and Rebecca;
not Cheese and Tomato?
Granny shook
her head.
xi
The hard work
hopefully won't end
and we will stick together
no matter what
xii
Experimental
native style
knows
no boundaries
xiii
The fire detectors
are fitted
at regular intervals
along the tunnel
xiv
As an adult
Tarzan is once again
faced with the question of belonging
when he first meets humans
and discovers creatures
who look like himself.
xv
My heart misses a beat.
The girls have seen me
in my bikini.
They all gather around
looking and laughing at the sight.
How embarrassing!
It is a long way down.
Jan 11, 2012
Jan 11, 2012 at 11:34 AM UTC
Sun fingers her hidden hummingbird nest of skin,
Each twig, love's unfinished sonnet, found by dawn's light.
My lips echo night’s bare swim’s wild lake water,
Our steam now swirls skyward, sisters with the breeze.
Her breathless wink, a covert quest cloaked as touch,
Then silence—inhales between our lingering drip.
Her drop, carried by sunlight, feeds my waiting drip.
Wander the rainforest of our clammy, wet skin.
She slowly turns—I search her folds, lost in touch,
Her nest, crescent moon, orbits a split of light.
She shivers, wild hairs pirouette by a breeze,
My fingers press her steam and honey tea into water.
Her hips sing a ballad—our rhythm cyclones the water,
Our chorus swells red—cools—softly—a lush drip.
We bloom, finding sun’s rays—chased by a soft breeze,
Flesh cools where steam once warmly caressed skin.
Sun’s gaze lowers, tangles softened with light,
Her calf discovers mine, a fawn, frozen by touch.
Gaze locked—hummingbirds hover, skin craving touch.
We lean as one, gathering feral hair, drowned by water.
Glints of wet skin flicker through mother oak’s light.
From her thigh’s fold, a slow, golden honey drip
Marks time—stroked by a returning breeze,
Its chill paints a stream’s pebbles on cold skin.
Sun, a spider, crawls along her ******* secret skin,
Her woven silk—memories, a wisp of touch.
My lips chase her ******* last rivulets of water,
A sigh spills golden from her—deep, into light.
Between her thighs, one final honeyed drip—
Then stillness—skyward, the gasp of our breeze.
A drowned silence—death—our last honeyed drip.
Our shadows triumph where sun once ruled skin.
Skyward, the scent of our love—a nest in the breeze.
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 6:16 PM UTC
My wife is a most knowing woman,
She always is finding me out,
She never will hear explanations
But instantly puts me to rout,
There's no use to try and deceive her,
If out with my friends night or day,
In a most inconceivable manner,
She tells where I've been right away,
She says that I'm 'mean' and 'inhuman.'
Oh! My wife is a most knowing woman.
She would've been hung up for witchcraft
If she had lived sooner, I know,
There's no hiding anything from her,
She knows what I do -- where I go;
And if I come in after midnight
And say 'I have been to the lodge,'
Oh, she says while she flies in a fury,
'Now don't think to play such a dodge!
It's all very fine, but won't do, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
Not often I go out to dinner
And come home a little 'so so,'
I try to creep up through the hall-way,
As still as a mouse, on tip-toe,
She's sure to be waiting up for me
And then comes a nice little scene,
'What, you tell me you're sober, you wretch you,
Now don't think that I am so green!
My life is quite worn out with you, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman!
She knows me much better than I do,
Her eyes are like those of a lynx,
Though how she discovers my secrets
Is a riddle would puzzle a sphynx,
On fair days, when we go out walking,
If ladies look at me askance,
In the most harmless way, I assure you,
My wife gives me, oh! such a glance,
And says 'all these insults you'll rue, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
Yes, I must give all of my friends up
If I would live happy and quiet;
One might as well be 'neath a tombstone
As live in confusion and riot.
This life we all know is a short one,
While some tongues are long, heaven knows,
And a miserable life is a husband's
Who numbers his wife with his foes;
I'll stay at home now like a true man,
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
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